The Last Can of Pringles
by YFWE
Summary: Quite possibly the dumbest story you've ever read. I'm good at that! ]


Ummm... lesee, how can I explain this?

Oh, right. I was bored. Still am, actually. But yeaaahhh... I'm taking a break from my current fanfic, The Dragon Chronicles, to write this, as a fun little filler before I get back to work on TDC.

And... I'll stop talking now. Enjoy!!

The Last Can of Pringles

YFWE

It was a particularly slow Friday, as Jake, Trixie, and Spud sat around the central wooden table in Lao Shi's shop, having nothing important to do, what with it being the first week of summer, and school being out until the fall. You might think that, because of this newfound free time, anyone and everyone would be taking full advantage of this time, and would be out and about– maybe at the skate park, or at the basketball court, or perhaps even taking a prolonged vacation out of the state. But not these three.

You see, after you've lived in New York City for as long as the three friends have, everything gets a bit, well, boring. And it didn't help that the skate park and its vicinity was at that moment closed, because a man who called himself the Masked Wal-Mart Cashier of Imminent Doom kept throwing cans of Campbell's Soup at the skaters, and thus provoking a few slightly serious injuries to the area skaters.

You know what? Don't ask me! He throws cans of soup at skaters, so what? Maybe he's doing the world a favor– some of those skaters were probably gonna go home and cut their wrists and bleed to death anyway, and it's not like anyone actually buys Campbell's Soup anyway! Contrary to popular belief, it is not "Mmm-mmm-good" or whatever. It's more like "Mmm-mmm-find the nearest trash can" or something." Seriously, I can't make up stuff like this. What do you think, I'm making this up as I go?

Don't answer that.

So yeah, back on track. Skate park closed. And there was really nothing else to do around their neighborhood. So what was there to do?

It was either play a rousing game of Candy Land or sit around Grandpa's table and stare at each other.

And for some reason, they chose the latter, which did not sit well with Spud.

"What do you guys have against Candy Land?!" he exclaimed angrily, slamming his fists onto the table. "It's easy to play, and it's probably the most colorful game ever! I know that you guys aren't as A. D. D. as I am, but still– you've gotta play it for the colors!"

"Dude, Spud," said Jake, "did you not read the box? You're, like, three times the age limit on the box!"

"Frankly, Jake, I don't give a damn about what Milton Bradley says about age limits. It takes, like, five minutes to play, and it's COLORFUL! Look at this!!" Spud spilled the contents of the board game's box all over the table and pointed at the game colors. "Blue! Green! Yellow! Purple! For God's sake, Jake, do you not have a soul?!"

"Since when has not wanting to play Candy Land made me soulless?"

"Watch yourself, Jake, before I send you to the Molasses Swamp thing! If you get stuck in there, you lose a turn! Now what do you have to say about that?!"

"I say... I'm gonna get some food. How about you bother Trixie about it for awhile?" said Jake as he got up and left for the kitchen.

"Trixieeeeee," whined Spud, "why won't you play Candy Land with me???"

"Spud, do you recall the last time you and I played that game?"

"Nah. But I'm sure I won!"

"No, not really...," sighed Trixie. "In fact, the opposite. You lost, like, ten turns and I beat you in three minutes. So you threw the game board out the window, and it hit Rob Schneider in the head, which consequently gave him memory loss and ended his career."

"Wait...," stuttered Spud, "are you telling me that..."

"That you lost? Yeah, Spud."

"...no, not that. You're telling me that Rob Schneider actually had a career once?"

"Well, it's kinda open to debate," Trixie said. "It depends on what your definition of a crappy movie is."

"Let me see... The Benchwarmers, Deuce Bigalow 1 and 2, The Animal, and The Hot Chick all sucked. And Rob Schneider was in all those, so..."

"Yeah, but let's be fair– The Benchwarmers would've been better if Jon Heder hadn't been in it," said Trixie.

"True, but it still would've sucked."

At this point, Jake ran into the room, white-faced.

"What is it, Jake?" asked Trixie.

"Oh, I know what this is! He's realized his error in not deciding to play Candy Land, and..."

"Um... do you guys remember the Masked Wal-Mart Cashier of Imminent Doom from TV?" Jake asked shakily.

"That guy who's totally wasting all the Campbell's soup?" exclaimed Spud.

"...and pretty much single-handedly closed the skate park?" added Trixie.

"What is it with you and the skate park?!" Spud turned to Trixie angrily. "Do you not see the real problem at hand? All those wasted cans of soup! I mean, where the hell are your priorities?!"

"...you're both right," Jake said. "And for some reason, he just came through the front door and stole the last can of Pringles! And he took Fu and Gramps for ransom!"

"That poor, defenseless can of Pringles...," sighed Spud.

"Spud!" yelled Trixie and Jake in unison.

"Oh, right... Fu and Gramps, too..."

"Well, what are we gonna do?: Trixie asked Jake, turning to face him.

"We obviously have to go after him, no matter how unexplainably weird this is... I just don't see why he would want our Pringles..."

"Yeah, doesn't he only use cans of soup?" asked Spud.

"I dunno," Trixie said, "but we'd better get a move-on if we're gonna catch the guy! He's probably halfway across New York by now!"

"Actually... look out the window...," said Spud.

They did, and beheld the Masked Wal-Mart Cashier, just right across the street, with a bag strewn over his left shoulder (which held Grandpa and Fu), and the can of Pringles in his right hand.

"Damn, that boy moves slow...," commented Trixie.

"Yeah... he must be white," added Spud.

Trixie and Jake stared at Spud.

"WHAT?! Oh, come on, Trix, if you said it, no one would say anything!"

"Welcome to America, Spud."

"Oh, come on, guys! Why are we still standing around here?!" exclaimed Jake. "We've gotta catch him!"

"Right!"

Trixie sprinted out of the room, veering around corners and through doorways until she was outside. She saw that Jake had gone out the window, and was on his way chasing the masked man, soaring along at a feverish pace in his dragon form. What surprised Trixie (or, in fact, annoyed her) was the fact that Spud, too, had gone out the window, which made basically no sense, considering that the window in question was about fifteen feet above the ground. So now, Spud laid on the ground, face up and moaning loudly. "Maaaannn... that hurt."

"Spud, why the hell would you jump out of the window? You could've gone out the front door like a normal human being..."

"Jake didn't..."

"Yeah, well, Jake's not a normal human being, is he?"

"I dunno... it seemed like a good idea at the time," moaned Spud.

Trixie sighed. "C'mon, Spudinski. We've got ourselves a... crazed Wal-Mart shopper to catch."

And so, after finally getting Spud to stand upright, they ran off in the direction of where Jake had headed, which was to the left of them. They could no longer see Jake, nor could they see the masked man he was chasing. But there was a dark alley nearby...

And my friends, if there is anything that you should get from this story, it is this– it ALWAYS happens in a dark alley. Believe me. I mean, think about all of the times you've saw it on TV or read it in a book– a dark alley somehow gets involved. It's almost like a cliche... only the reason it is overused is because it must be– there is no alternative!

Anyway, before we wander off the subject too much...

What is your stance on killer whales? I mean, why are they called killer whales if they're, like, extremely passive? Case in point, Free Willy! I mean, come on– if you call that a killer, I'd hate to see what you'd deem, say, a shark.

Just wanted to add that in there. Talk amongst yourselves.

So Trixie and Spud rounded the corner, and into the dark alley, which upon entrance was not as dark as it had previously seemed– as the sun was directly overhead at this point and thus the alley was lit, albeit dimly.

At the end of the alley was a large wall, which happened to be the rear of the local Pizza Hut franchise's building. As it stood, Jake had backed the Masked Wal-Mart Cashier of Imminent Doom against the wall, there being no palpable route for him to escape. They could finally make out a few of the masked man's key features– from the short brown hair to the red bandana that covered his nose and mouth. (This was his "mask.") He wore (get ready for a shocker here, folks) a blue and white Wal-Mart uniform, much like that of a Wal-Mart employee.

"Alright, dude, joke's over. Give me back my Grandpa and my dog!"

"And the Pringles!" added Spud.

Trixie slapped a hand to her face.

"Priorities, Spud," Jake muttered, "priorities." He then turned his attention back to the masked man. "Well? What are you waiting for? Release them!"

"You dare oppose the Masked Wal-Mart Cashier of Imminent Doom?!" the masked man exclaimed. "Do you not know my wrath?!"

"Your wrath. Right. You mean throwing cans of soup at poor, defenseless, self-loathing skaters?"

"Why yes, exactly! Does that not strike fear into your very souls?"

Jake sighed. "Not exactly. But I was about to ask you the same thing..."

"What, a kid in a dragon costume? Puh-lease!"

"Right then!" Jake formed a baseball-sized fireball in his claws, and hurtled it at the man. It impacted the wall just above the masked man.

"Holy Spanish Inquisition! That's it, I'm outta here!" yelled the shaken man, dropping the bag that held Fu and Grandpa and tossing the can of Pringles into the air, sprinting off into the street. He was abruptly hit by a black cadillac, out of which two men in black suits and sunglasses came and took him away, where he was questioned and used for government testing, because they thought he was a terrorist, intent on imploding the White House with some sort of "can bomb."

Once again, welcome to America.

"Well... that was totally not weird," Trixie commented, looking over at Jake.

"You can say that again," muttered Jake. Soon after, he walked over to the bag the masked man had been carrying and opened it up. Upon this, Fu and Gramps spilled out.

"Took you long enough," growled Fu, brushing himself off.

"Nice work, Jake... although I must agree with Fu; you did take a while!" Grandpa said.

"Uh... sorry?"

"Ah, it matters not. All that matters is that we are safe now."

"I still don't understand, though...," said Trixie thoughtfully. "Why on earth did he take you captive? And why did he want the Pringles?"

"Well, according to him, he had some sort of snack attack and needed Pringles, because the dude apparently hates Campbell's soup, even though he has so much of it," explained Fu.

"The nerve!" scoffed Spud.

"...so then he came in to try and get some from us, because K-Mart was out. Which was stupid, because we all know that Target would've had some, because Target owns all... and when he came in to take it from us, we tried to stop him, but he captured us inside this bag..."

"Wait, I totally find this hard to believe," Jake said. "How on earth did he capture you guys? Grandpa, you're one of the strongest dragons in the world! And Fu, you're... well, still! You guys had to have gotten into the bag by your own free will, or something!"

Fu, who had been trying to contain himself, finally let slip a small laugh. Grandpa smiled. "You're right, Jake! It was all a test, to keep you active in using your dragon powers! I had noticed that there has been little action for you lately..."

"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore the fact that that last sentence sounded totally wrong in many ways, and say this: you guys suck."

"Just keep telling yourself that, Jake," said Fu. "One day, you'll thank us. And for the record, Gramps, that WAS a bit wrong."

"What, I do not get it..."

"Thank you?! What on earth will I ever use this for?" exclaimed Jake.

"Oh, I don't know... just go with it. Notice how we say that often?"

"I guess so."

At this point, the group turned to leave, but not before Spud had one last task to carry out. "The Pringles!! I'll get 'em..."

He went over to the spot on the ground where the can laid, picking it up. "Ooh.. Ranch flavored." He opened it up, and beheld a bemusing sight.

"What the hell, guys?! There wasn't even any Pringles left in here!!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah... I kinda had a snack attack of my own yesterday evening," said Fu sheepishly. "Sorry..."

"The least you could do was throw the can away!!" yelled Spud.

"Aww... where's the fun in that?"

And so, the group returned to Grandpa's shop, somewhat disappointed, knowing that their boredom would still not be quenched, as it had not been yet.

And as they walked up the stairs to the shop, Spud was overheard saying the one line that pretty much summed up the entire day.

"I TOLD you guys we should've played Candy Land!!"

END

Yeah, I'm done. XD


End file.
